


just another saturday night

by clayisforgirls



Series: brownieverse [6]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"he's certain it's not going to be money or getting to pick a movie or getting driven to school, it's going to be something so much better for him, so much more satisfying"</p><p>Originally posted in April 2006.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just another saturday night

Andy's the perfect picture of concentration right now, brow furrowed, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth as he glances between the board and his letters and it would be cute, except that Mardy's losing. Badly.

He's beginning to wish he hadn't agreed to Scrabble but after Andy had begged his parents to leave them alone for one evening he'd been willing to do anything, including a game in which Andy kicked his ass every time. Alone time was rare now, at least one of Andy's parents hovering around them almost all of the time, making sure they weren't doing anything a sixteen year old and a seventeen year old weren't meant to be doing. Even movie nights in Andy's room had been banned; instead they cuddled together on the couch, kissing as the movie played in the background, neither of them watching it. They'd gotten further than kissing precisely once, Andy's hand in Mardy's jeans, whimpering softly, and then Blanche had walked in and now that was even more carefully monitored than before.

Mardy couldn't look at her for a week, embarrassed beyond belief that she'd caught Andy jerking him off, and even though he'd pushed Andy away the next time, and the next, it hasn't stopped him from trying every single time.

Because more than anyone, he knows Andy is nothing if not persistent.

There's a grin on Andy's face as he puts down the next word, and Mardy groans. He knows he shouldn't have agreed to it, knows Andy could recite half the bizarre words in the Scrabble dictionary and yet he still couldn't say no. At least, not when Andy had kissed him softly and promised him sex later, something totally banned from the house and so far, they haven't found a way around it, both too loud to even think about doing it in the cover of darkness after Andy's crawled into bed with him.

He's too used to sleeping with Andy now, it's strange without him there because it happens every night without fail. Right now, he's not thinking of that ever-closer date when he leaves, and then he realises that he can make that word with his letters, giving Andy a smug smile as the 'v' gets the triple letter score on top of it.

"Bastard," Andy says through a mouthful of pizza, and even though he's still not close to Andy's score he's gaining ground.

Watching Andy is almost addictive, and he decides that it is cute, no matter whether he's winning or losing. Andy is, after all, entirely too adorable for his own good at times, and now he's grown the girls have started to like him too. When Mardy's honest, he'll admit to being a little jealous of Andy, but mostly, he's worried that Andy will decide it's really the pretty blonde cheerleader he wants.

Quietly teasing, Andy had told him the only pretty blonde cheerleader he wanted was Mardy in a cheerleader uniform, and unless he was willing to dress up, he'd only want Mardy. He'd been gentle, perfectly Andy with that teasing tone but totally honest and Mardy had known it and he'd kissed Andy, ever so softly, hand tangled in his hair before they climbed out of the car and walked inside together, Andy's arm around his waist.

Eyes shut briefly, yawn escaping and when he looks back up at Andy's face, there's that grin again, the one that he knows means he's already lost, even if they're only halfway done.

"Seven letters. Fifty points. Face it Mar, you've lost."

Eyes read over the word upside down, and then he laughs, he can't help it because even this is going too far for Andy and his inside-out knowledge of the Scrabble dictionary; there's no way that fucking will be in there, he'd bet on that despite Andy always being able to find whatever random word he came up with. Every single time, and it's the thing he hates most about playing Scrabble with Andy, because he's never, ever right about it, and mostly, he's stopped arguing.

This time it's different though.

"Andy, 'fucking' is not going to be in the Scrabble dictionary," he says, grinning at Andy's raised eyebrow because this time, he knows he's right. For once. And not even that grin on Andy's face will allow him to back down because he's right, he can feel it.

"Want to bet on that?" and he nods, watching Andy as he thinks of what to bet, and he's certain it's not going to be money or getting to pick a movie or getting driven to school, it's going to be something so much better for him, so much more satisfying when Andy pulls out that dictionary sitting on his shelf and he pours through it, looking for the word until he can't look anymore and throws it across the room in frustration.

It hasn't happened before, but Mardy has hope this time.

"So... winner gets to fuck the other?" Andy asks, brightly, and Mardy laughs, smiling because it's the best bet he could have hoped for, it's a win either way. He loves having Andy inside of him but loves fucking him too, and he still doesn't know which he likes best, other than he still doesn't quite trust himself not to hurt Andy, always that nagging thought and he's ever-so-gentle with him still, but the nerves are worth it to see Andy writhe beneath him, to hear Andy scream his name.

"Yeah," he says softly and then it's sealed with a kiss, Mardy leaning across the board to meet Andy's mouth with his own, hand curling at Andy's neck, pulling him closer. Andy's tongue runs across his bottom lip and he parts them instinctively, sucking on it gently and rubbing against it with his own, smiling as he hears Andy whimper softly, because if this was the battle of the day, he'd have already won, Andy like putty in his hands, but it's not, and he pulls back with a moan of protest from Andy, eyes glazed with lust and he has to look away otherwise they'll just end up having sex right here.

And as much as he wants that, he wants to win the bet first.

"You going to prove me right?" and his voice is shaky, hadn't realised it would be, and Andy shakes his head and kisses him again, just a brush of lips before he gets up, all long limbs and awkwardness and then he's alone.

When Andy comes back – Scrabble dictionary in hand – he's still trying to figure out what his next word could be, because with the letters he has he can't think of anything. Although Andy would probably know a few bizarre things that would get him a ridiculous amount of points, he has better things to do that to memorise half a dictionary.

Though if Andy keeps beating him, he's sure he'll start to have other ideas because he really does hate losing to Andy.

And then there's the dictionary open at a page in front of him, and he scans down the page until he notices the work 'fucking' scrawled in Andy's handwriting at the top of the page and if he didn't love him so much he could kill him right now. In fact, that's a viable option when he looks back at Andy, that smug, self-satisfied grin he wants to wipe off his face because this isn't what he meant and is sure Andy knows it. Convinced that he does.

"Andy..." but he can't finish the sentence, doesn't even know what he'd say if he could because he knows Andy can be sneaky but never thought he'd go this far just to win a bet. Maybe he should have realised that. After all, this is Andy, the one person who hates losing more than he does and adding his own words to a dictionary probably wasn't out of the question if it meant he won.

"You only said it had to be in the dictionary, Mar. You never said I couldn't write it in," he jokes, climbing into Mardy's lap, kissing him, and Mardy wishes Andy wasn't so cute. Because he's impossible to stay mad at.

"You're impossible," he says softly, not really meaning it and he gets a smile from Andy, resting their foreheads together briefly before they're kissing again, shifting so they're more comfortable.

"But you love me for it, right?" Andy teases, pressing a kiss to the corner of Mardy's mouth, cupping his face in his hand, stroking his cheek softly and Mardy smiles and nods.

"Yeah. I do."

"You too," he murmurs between kisses. "Want to be fucked yet, Mar? Or we-"

"Now is good," and he cuts Andy off, because it's been too long since they've had sex, far too long and right now the bet's not important, doesn't care if he lost because Andy's kissing him, warm weight pressed against his body and it's been too long since they've even done this, too carefully monitored in the last few months to really enjoy anything other than just being together.

Even though this was caused by a bet, they would have got there eventually; they always do when they're alone. Though if the wager for their bets now is going to be sex, Mardy doesn't think he'll mind losing so much after all.


End file.
